The Mellarks
by fayola7
Summary: It is the morning before the 77th annual Hunger Games and Katniss and Peeta must tell their children the story of their past. They must face their darkest memories and face the impact these horrors will have on their two innocent children...


The sheets were warm and soft like clouds, so unlike the crisp, cold sheets from the morning of the first reaping. Those sheets had been wet with Prim's tears too…

Prim.

She had been having nightmares that night, little did she know that all of our nightmares would become a reality. Today was the first night I'd had a nightmare since the death of Snow and Coin…

Snow. Coin.

My actions back then would be pardoned today. Yet that wouldn't release the bone-crushing weight of guilt that had plagued me since that vote. "For Prim." I had said. Prim. Prim would never have wanted this, she was a healer. She would've found a way to heal this broken world without twisting the knife deeper into the wound.

I rolled over and my gaze traced over the peaceful face of Peeta- the face of someone who was finally free from nightmares, torture and the anxiety of protecting me. He had changed so much since the day of the reaping too. He left the pale, worried boy who thought he was about to die; the star-crossed, protective lover; the strong, fearless fighter; the angry, tortured mutt all behind him. Now he was a loving, kind, blissful father. Yet I knew that when he opened his sky-blue eyes I would see the darkness in them that would never leave no matter how much he masked it with smiles and laughs. I ran a hand through his sun-kissed, ashy blonde hair and climbed out of our bed.

I walked out onto the veranda. Our cottage was settled by the lake my father used to take me swimming in the heart of the woods. My bow and arrows still lived inside the hollow tree- the bow that Cinna had crafted.

Cinna.

Planted beside the house was Peeta's garden. There were plants for all of them. Pure, white Katniss flowers; bright, radiant buttercups for the cat; then there were beautiful rue flowers and delicate primroses. There were dandelions like the ones in the field near where I saw Peeta after school; Posies for Gale's younger sister; Tiger-lilies for my mother who used them to cook with; Daisies and other wild flowers like the ones I had used to make a memorial for Rue. There was even a clover for Clove, I hadn't wanted that one but Peeta insisted that she was just a young girl who would do whatever she could to survive in a bloodthirsty world.

There were no Roses though- not roses as red as blood nor pure, clean, fragile, untainted roses as white as…

I shuddered and entered the house. Rye appeared first, he raced over to me and flung himself into my arms. I laughed and affectionately brushed his golden hair. He got that from Peeta- in fact he had all of Peeta apart from his eyes- they were startling, stone-grey like mine. Willow appeared next, moving more slowly, I released myself from Rye's sturdy grip to kiss her forehead. Her hair was wavy and dark, she was tall and slender for her age-just like I was. However, her azure eyes belonged to Peeta. She studied me with a gaze too intense and intelligent for a girl her age- she could see through my smile and knew that something was troubling me. And it was. Today the cameras and the crowds would return. Today I must tell them the games of my past.

This summer holiday I had been teaching Willow how to hunt. She was eleven years old which is older than I was when I began. Peeta had been gardening with Rye who had a particular dislike for baking while Willow was off hunting- but he was only eight so he wasn't old enough for it, much to his dismay. However, I was anxious that none of them would ever be old enough to hear the horrors of our past- yet I think, I was even more worried about how I would cope reliving all of those painful memories, those agonizing shadows of my past that I would have to resurrect.

After breakfast Peeta awoke- his wavy locks ruffled and his tired eyes sparkling as he beheld me and the children. I understood that feeling. Every day, joy would fill my heart when I knew that we had survived the last day and we were able to awake to a new one. As I watched Peeta settle on the sofa chatting merrily to the children- I realised for the hundredth time that I had made the right choice. Of course Gale would always be my friend, I couldn't hate him after Prim, I knew he did what he needed to do to create a world of peace. However, it was like I was the fire, Peeta was the water and he was the fuel. If I had chosen Gale, it would've been like adding fuel to the fire and eventually we would explode. I needed Peeta to be the water, the calm, reassurance that I needed to keep me from becoming a wildfire.

His eyes locked on mine and we knew that now was the time. The team would arrive in the evening and this explanation would last all day. "Peeta, hurry up and finish your breakfast- today we are going into District 12."

We wandered through the forest at a leisurely pace but it took all of my will power not to race back to the cottage. Of course I had to into District 12 many times during the week to visit the Black Hob, collect the children from the school and visit Haymitch and Effie, but every time, my stomach would always lurch. It just allowed too many memories to resurface.

We entered the District effortlessly; the barbed wire had been officially taken down years ago. We came to our first stop on the journey- Peeta's old house. His smile flickered ever so slightly- a movement only I noticed yet Willow stared at him unnervingly. There beside it was the tree where I had sat starving, losing the will to live and desperate not to return home empty handed.

"This is where me and Mum first met," Peeta said, "This bakery belonged to me, my two older brothers and my mother." His voice cracked so I took over.

"I had been starving that evening. Mother had gone into denial after the death of my father- it was like she had been paralyzed, therefore, it was up to me to feed her and… your Auntie Prim."

"I thought Aunt Effie was our only Auntie. I never knew we had a real Auntie." Rye piped up excitedly. "How come we never get to visit her?"

My words failed me at that point. I remembered the day I had screamed at Buttercup and shattered glass all around the house-repeating those words over and over, yet they still never sunk in.

"Because she's dead." It felt like my heart was cracking inside my chest again-how long would it take the wound to heal completely? How long would it be for that gash to never reopen?

Willow analysed me- a million questions in her eyes- and yet, she said not a word as if she could read my mind she remained silent, unmoving. She knew that I did not want sympathy nor an enquiry, I just needed someone to listen. Rye's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish yet he followed his sister's example.

"I spotted Mum lying there, helplessly in the pouring rain, and I threw her a loaf of bread." Peeta continued the story. "My mother beat me that night, I was meant to feed it to the pigs, but I gave it to Mum instead. Come now, let's go to our next spot."

We meandered through the town, until we came to the town square. My children sat on the steps. The steps that every child in all of District 12 used to hope with all their hearts that they wouldn't have to climb. The steps that I had climbed after I had volunteered for Prim. The steps that Peeta had climbed when neither of his two older brothers had volunteered for him.

I stood up on the stage. A vision of a crowd of miserable slaves pressing three fingers to their cold lips and lifting them into the air as a salute flashed before my eyes.

"When we were young," I began, my flat voice echoing around the empty square, so different to Effie's enthusiastic chirping, "There was a television show called The Hunger Games. Every year, a girl and a boy from each district would be selected to take part in this show. In this show, all of these 24 children from the ages of 12 to 18 would be put inside a massive arena. There, they were forced to fight to the death, until there was only one child left."

Rye gasped, staring wide-eyed and it broke my heart to see such a young innocent child learning about the horrors of a world he had never belonged in-he reminded me of Prim. Willow remained a statue- she had learnt about the war of Panem and The Hunger Games that had followed in her history lessons, yet she was not prepared for what she was about to hear.

"The selection of the boy and girl took place right here in this square, though we called it the reaping." I almost spat the word. I detested it so much.

"Auntie Effie lived in the Phoenix- which used to be known as the Capitol." Peeta took over, "The Capitol was the richest, most powerful city in Panem. All the other Districts were poor and starving while they could afford extravagant clothing and pills which make you throw up so you can carry on eating. The ruler of Panem lived in the Capitol and his name was President Snow. He was the cruel, deadly man that invented The Hunger Games. No one in the Capitol had to take part in it because the Capitol were the winners of the war. Therefore, they watched us die like it really was a game."

Rage boiled inside of me like a bubbling cauldron. Peeta hadn't explained that President Snow was the most malicious, manipulative murderer to ever walk this Earth. He hadn't mentioned that this man's face had haunted me and followed me every day- causing me to die inside every time I realised that this man was always one step ahead. I couldn't take it anymore, we had to tell them.

"If someone wanted to go into the arena because they lusted for the eternal riches and glory after it, they were allowed to volunteer to take the place of the person who had been selected. Aunt Prim was chosen- I volunteered."

I saw the horror that had sparked in their eyes and remorse hit me like a punch to the gut. I was bombarding them with too much information, how were they meant to process this? But we were running out of time. I guess none of us had ever wanted to be plunged head first into this world of murder and deceit and yet we had had no choice either.

"Why? Why…d-did you v-volunteer? You, you could of… died!" Rye stammered.

"Because, the only thing worse than me going into the arena myself, is having to watch Prim go in all alone- a twelve-year-old surrounded by heartless killers-and know that I could've stopped it. I was her older sister, I could, I _would_ never live with myself if she had died then."

"I was chosen too," Peeta said, "But unlike Prim, neither of my older brothers were willing to volunteer."

A flash of icy rage flickered through Willow's coal-black eyes which I knew was being mirrored in my own.

"Come let's walk and talk." I said adding a weak smile. We rose and began to meander through the District which had gradually began to reform after the bombings. We walked past the spot me, Peeta and Haymitch had stopped the Peacekeeper from whipping Gale; past where the Hob used to be; past the alcove where I had kissed Gale. We roamed through Victor's village; past where Prim and I had gathered snow; alongside my old school and home and finally the mines where father had died. All these memories flashed through my mind especially when we reached the archway under which I had stood and surveyed the sea of skeletons after the destruction of the original District Twelve.

All the while the words flew from my mouth like birds finally free from their cages. We spoke about the first Hunger Games with soft-hearted, innocent, young Rue; strong, ruthless Cato; powerful, mighty Thresh; cunning, sly Foxface; Marvel and malicious Clove. We spoke about those dreaded, ill-fated night lock berries which would go down in history and the unfortunate Game maker- Seneca Crane. Then there was the tour, when the sparks of the uprising first appeared some Districts. After, there came the excruciating announcement of the Quarter Quell and a description of our time with Mags, Finnick, Beetee, Wireless and Johanna in the 76th annual Hunger Games. Next, the discovery of District 12 where I officially became the Mockingjay and Peeta was trapped in the Capitol.

The bombings in District 11. The destruction of the Nut. Me being shot. The pods in the Capitol. The end of the war. The death of Snow and Coin, and Cinna, and Rue and Finnick and Bogs and Mags and Leeg One and Leeg Two and Wiress… and Prim...

Peeta assisted every once in a while but I felt like this was my chance to explain everything from the beginning to the end. Usually in the Capitol, Peeta did the talking, I was always just the relatively pretty mascot who smiled, waved, kissed him and tried not to look too rebellious and disgusted. Even in District 13 I was just the Mockingjay who read the cards and attempted not to cringe at my own unconvincing acting. And after it all, I had never wanted to open up to anyone apart from Peeta, Haymitch, Effie and Johanna- it brought too many memories to the surface. But now could pour out my heart, as if this was the final stab of pain before the wound healed for good.

My children, respectfully, listened mutely though distress and curiosity burned in their eyes. When we finally finished, shock screamed from their expressions yet what came out of Willow's mouth surprised me almost as much.

"Rue was right all along. She said you have to win-and you did."

At those words my hearted melted. Tears streamed down my face as I took my family I had sworn to Gale I would never have. The parents whose love had endured so much. The parents who had individually suffered through horrors that were so unimaginable yet they would still go through them again and again if it meant preventing their children from experiencing those same things. All we had to do was survive this next month and then this family would be free from the shadows of their past.

The Mockingjay needed to make one final return.

As today was the beginning of the 77th annual Hunger Games.


End file.
